


Artwork

by Trojie



Series: Trojie's Pornathon Entries 2013 [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, Community: summerpornathon, M/M, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur wants to help Merlin be good, but he doesn't have to do a thing to make him into a work of art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artwork

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round Two of the Merlin Summerpornathon (Multimedia). Prompt used was [Gif #4](http://i.imgur.com/3G2rMRQ.gif) (NSFW).

The ropes are beautiful, but they're there for a reason. Arthur wants to help Merlin be good. Arthur doesn't have to try to make Merlin into a work of art, because he already is one, but he loses himself too fast, he squirms and he writhes and he doesn't deliberately disobey but he can't control himself, sometimes.

That's okay. That's what Arthur's for. 

Arthur lips along the rope that slides between Merlin's pectoral muscles, and watches him shiver. 'You can make as much noise as you like,' he says, soft against Merlin's skin. 'But don't move, okay Merlin? Don't move.'

The instruction is for show, really. Merlin's tied kneeling, ankles to thighs, wrists to wrists and elbows to elbows. He can topple over, and he can toss his head, and that's about the limit. 

'Green?' Arthur adds, murmuring. 

Merlin nods, hair flopping sweaty in his eyes. 'Green,' he breathes. 'Please -'

'Shhh,' Arthur says, thumbing Merlin's soft mouth open and bending to kiss him. 'I've got you. Tell me what you want.' 

Merlin trembles against, within, the ropes, and licks into Arthur's mouth hungrily. He strains - Arthur can feel the sinew of him - until the bindings press into his skin. 'Make me take it,' he says hotly. 'Stretch me, Arthur, put me where you want me, hold me down. Make me do what you want -' and Arthur grabs the criss-cross lattice between Merlin's shoulderblades and pulls him backwards until he arcs like electricity, knees planted, thighs spread, the crown of his head kissing the mattress and between those points all the glorious slinky naked sweat-wet skin of him - red and white and pink, and his cock standing proud, framed in rope. 

Arthur muscles in between Merlin's knees and cages down over him, bites his collarbone under a rope so that every move will chafe it, so that Merlin will have the marks he loves, the pressure and contact he loves, even when Arthur is too preoccupied elsewhere, and shifts his grip from the rope at Merlin's shoulders to the ones knotted like a pearl necklace (and there's a thought for later) around his throat. 

He twists his fingers, tightens everything up, and Merlin takes one last deep breath before Arthur restricts his airways. It makes his chest inflate, puts his nipples on show even more, and Arthur can't resist. He lets his fingers twitch in amongst his knotwork, tighter and looser and Merlin pants, gasps, wheezes, while Arthur licks and sucks on his nipples. 

'Fuck,' Merlin manages to slide between his airless noises. 'Arthur. Wanna. Need. _Harder_ -' and Arthur nips and runs his teeth over that tender, soft, puckered and peaked skin, and feels how hard Merlin is fighting to stay still, be good. He can't help grinning, and moves lower. 

Merlin's cock jerks, spills precome when Arthur licks at it. He knows it's a tease, lapping gently at the head of it, but he can't go down deep, properly, when he's stretching to keep Merlin in place. He's doing the best he can, really, and if he happens to like how hard it makes Merlin squirm, that's beside the point. 

_'Please,'_ Merlin whines, and Arthur straightens up, pulls back to look Merlin in the eye.

'Can you be good?' he asks. 'If I let go, will you stay there? While I suck your cock?'

'Yes,' Merlin hisses. 'I swea - I _swear_ -'

Arthur releases the ropes and Merlin's chest heaves involuntarily as he gets some air, but he doesn't move - stays arched the way Arthur put him, and that makes Arthur's mouth water, makes his cock jump between his legs. Makes his heart clench with something he feels stupid naming. He sucks Merlin down before he can say something ridiculous. 

Merlin babbles, locked into place by rope and his own will and _obedience_ , and Arthur licks, noses down deeper until he's breathing the true scent of his lover, raw and hot and pure. 

When Merlin comes, Arthur drinks it down - not just the taste, but the sound of Merlin's pleasure wrecked in his throat, and the way he shakes to stay true to the ropes and stays that hold him, not lose his balance, to do as he promised. And when he's sobbing, panting, spent, Arthur rises up to his own knees and lays his hand on himself, his other back to the knots at Merlin's throat, and comes on his own knuckles, on the shadows between Merlin's collarbones, on his pale skin, like milk over the flushed, bitten red of his mouth, and watches him lick it away. 

No, Arthur doesn't have to do a thing to make Merlin be a work of art.


End file.
